


i died so i could haunt you

by djcati



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: AFFC spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djcati/pseuds/djcati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting in Braavos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i died so i could haunt you

**Author's Note:**

> AU-ish, no real plot spoilers. Short piece written for a comment ficathon.

The docks are so filthy that she would swear she sees the stench as it rises in waves from animal and person alike, threatening to drown her without a drop of water. Petyr tells her to lower her hand, that a common-raised bastard girl would not be bothered by the stink, that a highborn young woman would rise above acknowledging it. She keeps her hands by her sides, carefully unclenched, and breathes through the smallest gap in her lips.

She browses the market stalls and glances at the sellers that walk up and down with their baskets of clams. She feigns interest in the goods on offer, exchanges a few words here and there, but all her coin is with Lord Baelish. He's left her to enter a brothel where he must conduct some business, he has told her; she assumes his business is the same that many men conduct in brothels, and that is all she thinks on it.

She feels someone's eyes on her and turns to see a young bedraggled person -- she thinks a girl, though she cannot be certain -- staring at her, a few clams forgotten in her hands. The girl, as dirty as the cobbles beneath her bare feet, quickly looks away and passes a coin to the clam seller. After a moment, she takes a step forward, then another, and another, looking as though she regrets each one, until she is close enough to breathe, "Sansa?"

Alayne Stone swallows hard and stares at this girl, this filthy familiar girl who knows a name that should stay buried, dead as the girl who bears it must be. "No. Who are you?"

"Cat," says the girl. Then, "No one."

Her eyes flash, her chin lifts in a defiant gesture quite out of place in a common street dweller, and she turns and disappears into the crowds as Sansa Stark whispers, "Arya?"


End file.
